You know.  I’d be perfectly OK with you never speaking to me again.  Ever.  Anytime you do I get this sense of “I still care” shit.  It radiates off of you.  I wish you would talk to me like a normal person.  Not that you’re some awkward sixteen year old who is in a clumsy stage.  You couldn’t treat me like a friend when we were dating, and you still have problems with it now.  I’m glad we’re exes.  Really I am.

And I would’ve let this go a long time ago, if it wasn’t for the fact that you start talking to me the second I stop getting reminded of you.  You’re like this annoying reminder of a mistake.  A big fat mistake.  Just.. let me be.  You owe me.